


a guide to the complex being that is Katsuki Yuuri

by cancerouscactus



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: I REGRET NOTHING, I lied there is only one odessy reference, M/M, Memes, but failed miserably, first yoi thing, how to tag, i tried to make it serious, it's pretty much crack so far, odessy references, the characters are what i have so far bc i have no idea where I'm going with this, the fics have dragged me back into this hellhole fandom, this idea was created at 2 AM
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-10-08 16:21:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10390881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cancerouscactus/pseuds/cancerouscactus
Summary: Yuuko gets a call from the one and only Katsuki Yuuri.“Yuuko, according to all known laws of aviation-” he's cut off by an enraged screech, but he continues fearlessly, “there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its’ wings are too small to get its’ fat little body off the ground…”In which Yuuri is slightly different and Viktor is very gay.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> tell me if you like it!! if it gets good results it'll probably be around 10 chapters (ish?)

No one could pinpoint exactly when Yuuri just changed. It seemed to be overnight, however in actuality it was probably a thing that that had built up a while. A creation of Yuuri’s fear of not being in control and failure. All they knew is one day Yuuri wasn’t a stuttering, emotional, adorable little mess. He was now a cool, confident, bundle of repressed emotions and semi-crippling self hatred that manifested in the form of uncontrollable flirting.

His glasses had long been forsaken for contacts, his hair still messy but in a controlled manner and less in a “wtf is hair and how do it function”. By twelve, Yuuri had also stopped being completely obsessed with Viktor (or at least it seemed so). At thirteen, it was astonishingly easy for Yuuri to qualify for the World Junior Championships. He made his junior debut with a silver in the Junior World Championship, shaking up the world of ice skating.

At twenty, Katsuki Yuuri breaks Viktor Nikiforov’s gold medal streak in the World Championships.

* * *

 

“Your name is Nishigori Yuuko, correct?” The interviewer asks as he holds up his voice recorder to her.

“Yes sir.” She answers, sipping on her tea, quickly glancing at her watch. She needed to open up the rink soon.

“What's your relationship with Katsuki Yuuri?” At the mention of his name her eye twitches slightly, she takes a deep breath and answers honestly.

“We’re childhood friends, I've known him since I was five.” The reporter hums his acknowledgment and checks off the question from his list.

“If you had one thing to say to him now, what would it be?” Her eye twitches violently and she replies, her voice dangerously annoyed.

“Katsuki fucking Yuuri,” she starts and the reporter blanches, “sending me memes once in a blue fucking moon is not ‘keeping in touch’, if you don't call me soon, I will fly to Detroit and hand you your ass on a platter. If I so much as get one Shrek reference in our call so help me I will kick your ass so hard you'll only see it once a year, orbiting the planet like a fucking comet, do you understand me?” She pauses, smiling at the pale and shaking reporter, “That's all!”

“R-right, moving on…”

* * *

 

A week later after the interview was released, Yuuko gets a call from the one and only Katsuki Yuuri.

“Yuuko, according to all known laws of aviation-” he's cut off by an enraged screech, but he continues fearlessly, “there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its’ wings are too small to get its’ fat little body off the ground…”

* * *

 

Shielding his eyes from the flashing lights of cameras, Yuuri squints intensely at the reporter practically shouting at him, _ah,_ Yuuri thinks dully, _he cute._

“Yuuri, what was your inspiration for your theme this season?” The cute reporter asks, licking his lips, pen twitching in his hand. Yuuri pauses, eyeing the reporter with his well practiced bedroom eyes (he practices in the mirror, just so that he can at least seem in control of himself), the other man blushes, and Yuuri smirks.

“Well,” he drawls, “this year I’ve decided to use my crippling depression-” there's an outraged cry from the slew of reporters and news casters.

“You say that every year Yuuri!”

And “Give us a serious answer for once!”

Chuckling, Yuuri absentmindedly adds this encounter to the list of fuck ups he’ll review late at night in his bed when he can’t sleep. “On a serious note,” he continues, “my real inspiration for this theme of ‘Love’ is appreciation and love I feel for my friends and family. It’s to show them through my skating that I adore them with all of my being.” He says staring resolutely at the wall, trying very hard not to blush at the honest admission that left his mouth because he feels really bad about wasting literally everyone’s time with his bullshit.

The press conference goes rather smoothly after the incident, and as soon as Yuuri leaves the building and is in the car with Celestino driving, the false persona he puts on for literally every interaction he has in public and unfamiliar people fades. He goes back to being _Yuuri._ Awkward as all shit and constantly a massive blob of anxious thoughts and mildly suicidal tendencies. Slowly he sinks his face into his hands and takes a shaky breath, fighting the urge to sob right then and there. Slowly, without acknowledging the trembling in his hands he glances into the rear-view mirror to see Celestino eyeing him worriedly.

“Bad day?” The man asks. At Yuuri’s nod, Celestino casts him an even more worried look. “Do you need me to pull over for you to…?” He doesn't finish but this is routine by now, Celestino has been his coach for more than five years now. The whole anxiety and depression thing isn't exactly new to his coach. Yuuri shakes his head no, not trusting his voice to speak what he wants. It's been awhile since it’s been so bad that Celestino’s needed to pull over for Yuuri’s brain can calm the fuck down so that he can gag and dry heave on the grass instead of in a _speeding metal structure that could easily kill him and everyone else on this road-_

No. Yuuri cuts that thought off by the stem and eats it like the pig he is so the thought is shoved deep _deep_ down. But yanno, if they did crash, maybe Yuuri would actually die, and while that's a semi-pleasing thought the idea of Celestino getting hurt makes him want to curl up and sob and shake and _oh shit what if Celestino died???_

 _Jesus shit,_ Yuuri thinks somewhat hysterically, _these new meds are doing jack shit to help with this._ With a forceful breath, Yuuri breaths out his anxieties like smoke and prays they stay out there instead of pushing themselves back into his mind like they have a tendency to.

It works until he can rush inside his apartment and sit his ass in the shower. He sits there for about two hours until Phichit forces him out with the complaint that he’s sweaty from practice and how Yuuri should watch White Chicks with him tonight. Feeling a lot better, Yuuri climbs into bed and checks his social media. All the while ignoring how his brain feels like it's actively attempting to murder him.

There’s a crash from the bathroom and Yuuri hauls himself out of bed to check on Phichit. Phichit, is of course ass up on the floor. “Tripped over the shower lip again?” The skater asks tiredly. There’s a meek nod from the mass of flesh on the floor and Yuuri heaves a sigh and crawls back into his bed to pick up his forgotten phone.

_v_nikiforov has followed you!_

_v_nikiforov: Yuuri??_

_v_nikiforov: Yuuuuuuuuurrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii??_

_v_nikiforov: yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii?_

_v_nikiforrov:_ >:^((((((((((((((((((((((((((

With a yelp, Yuuri drops his phone on the bed and strangles out a cry of “Phichit!! Viktor Nikiforov has slid into my DMs like motherfucking Orochimaru or some shit!”

There’s another crash, a yelp, and Phichit slams down on top of Yuuri, butt ass naked and still dripping wet. Yuuri pushes and shoves at Phichit, trying to get out from under the other skater so he can text back or _do something._ They freeze as his phone lights up again.

_v_nikiforv: yuuri, it’s taken me a while to muster up the courage to tell you this but..._

_v_nikiforov: yuuri_

Taking a deep breath, Yuuri prepares himself for the worst roast of his entire life. He doesn't think he can take it right now but if he has to he will engage in a super roast battle with Viktor Fucking Nikiforov if he has to.

_v_nikiforov: i’m super gay for you_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri wants to sleep.

Feeling his face literally burst into flames, Yuuri takes a bite out of Phichit’s arm to get the other skater off of him and to keep the teen from squealing like some kind of demented pig. Sliding open his phone he texts out a hesitant reply with Phichit leaning heavily over his shoulder.

  
_sk8erboi: what?_

  
Yuuri has never regretted his choice of username this much before. His username seems childish in comparison to Viktor’s and it makes his face heat even more. “Yuuri, you could fry an egg on your face right now. You are actually burning up.” Phichit muses, pressing a cold hand to Yuuri’s cheek.

  
Frowning, he tears his attention away from the read receipt under his reply and glares at the Thai skater. “Don't you have something better to do?” He taps his chin, faking a wondering expression, “Like, for example, putting some damn clothes on?” He asks, glaring as Phichit finally skitters away to get his clothes on. Satisfied that the teen now has something covering him, Yuuri finally allows himself to look back at his phone.

  
_v_nikiforov: did i say gay for you???_

_  
v_nikiforov: i meant gay for your skating_

_  
v_nikiforov: i am definitely, totally, not gay for you in the slightest._

_  
v_nikiforov: haha autocorrect amirite? XD_

_  
v_nikiforov: i mean, if ur interested in me i def am super gay for u but if ur straight or aroace or something, then i am def not gay for u in the slightest_

_  
v_nikiforov: :D_

  
Pinching his brows together Yuuri finally figures out what's happening. Viktor Nikiforov is trying to sabotage him by being super gay. He doesn't know how this would work, or what Viktor would actually do but obviously this sentence cannot be true and therefore he’s either getting catfished or attacked. Nodding sagely, he types out his reply and put his phone up so he can sleep.

  
_sk8erboi: sounds fake but okay._

* * *

 

MV (short for ‘Malignant Viktor’) does not give up. Every day, he gets a DM with either a funny video or a plea for attention. And every time, Yuuri wages a war with himself. Every time, the argument of “if you ignore your problems it eventually just goes away” wins out. Except this problem doesn't go away. In fact, it only multiplies. Exponentially.

  
Yuri Plisetsky contacts him.

  
_yuri-plisetsky: IS THIS YUURI KATSUKI_

__  
yuri-plisetsky: FUCKING ANSSER ME YOU DOUCHBAG  


_sk8erboi: is this about Viktor?_

_  
yuri-plisetsky: HOW DID YOW KNOW_

_  
sk8erboi: well, you're russian, he’s russain, you have to know each other_

_  
yuri-plisetsky: THATS RACIST_

_  
sk8erboi: donald trump is racist_

_  
yuri-plisetsky: YES_

_  
yuri-plisetsky: WAIT WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING_

  
Yuuri does not answer.

* * *

 

Turns out, Yuri is just like Viktor. Meaning he's stubborn as all fuck. The only difference between the two is that it’s actually really amusing to mess with the fifteen year old. The kid just keeps shouting and shouting and it's hilarious.

  
Everyday during break Yuuri DMs The Tiny One (or so he has taken to calling Other Yuri).

  
_sk8erboi: why do u always type in caps_

  
_yuri-plisetsky: THE FIERY BURNING OF MY SOUL AUTOMATICALLY TURNS ON MY CAPS WHENEVER I TYPE_

_  
yuri-plisetsky: ALSO MY PHONE IS BROKEN AND MY CAPS WON’T TURN OFF_

_  
yuri-plisetsky: YOU SHOULD TEXT VIKTOR HE KEEPS COMPLAINING ABOUT YOU ASSWIPE_

_  
yuri-plisetsky: IF YOU DONT I WILL KICK YOUR ASS SO HARD YOU WON’T SEE IT TILL YOUR SIXTY_

_  
sk8erboi: you’re*_

_  
yuri-plisetsky: SHUT THE FUCK UP_

_  
yuri-plisetsky: HEY_

_  
yuri-plisetsky: DONT JUST LEAVE ME ON READ_

_  
yuri-plisetsky: I WILL BATTLE YOU_

  
The string of profanities The Tiny One regularly lets loose is something that Yuuri sits back in awe of. It really is amusing how someone so young and so small can be… so… aggressive. It really is one of the best past times twenty three year old Yuuri can think of. This probably says something important about Yuuri’s social life (or lack of thereof) but Yuuri really doesn't want to examine that any closer. Maybe on someday where the “I Hate Myself” levels are really high but not today. Not when Phichit has sent him some really nice smutty fanfiction.

  
Not today.

* * *

  
He’s just getting to the really kinky part, (which, totally off the record, is the best part, the fic either sinks from there or becomes his new source of comedic relief (or just gets really, really disgusting)), when his motherfucking doorbell rings. Yuuri didn't even know he had a doorbell. Glancing at his handy dandy fancy little clock he remembers.  
About two weeks ago, right when Yuuri started ignoring Viktor, Christophe texted him asking Yuuri to stop ignoring Viktor. Yuuri agreed on the condition that Christophe come here in person on December 12th, at exactly 2:25 AM and battle him in an intense game of Rock Paper Scissors.

  
Today is December 12th, exactly 2:25 AM.

The doorbell rings again. Phichit snores loudly. Yuuri gets out of bed, slides his slippers on and steps carefully to the door. Praying that Christophe did not take him seriously, Yuuri unlocks all the locks and opens the door. There standing, in all his sinful glory, is Christophe. Christophe who is now pushing him aside, setting his things on the floor by the couch and grabbing Yuuri’s comfort quilt.

The man is asleep in an instant.

Christophe is truly a national treasure.

“Need me a freak like you.” He mutters bitterly into the night. Christophe is unresponsive. Yawning, he tosses another blanket over to Christophe who is passed out cold on the couch, (because his mother taught him better damnit) Yuuri shuffles back into his room, closes the kinky smut tab and goes to sleep. Maybe when he wakes up, the Swiss man will be gone and Yuuri will finally get a life outside of skating.

* * *

 

He wakes up to screeching and loud whining noises that should not be coming from a man over six feet tall. Obviously, my life is a cosmic joke, Yuuri thinks bitterly and shoves a pillow over his ears. His phone goes off and Yuuri shoves his entire being under the covers and vows to never leave the safety of his bed ever again.

No doubt, the infernal beeps from his phone are Viktor’s fault.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all. So. I forgot about the chapter I was writing because my birthday happened and all I got was junk food. (Which is exactly what I asked for so yay)
> 
> FYI: all the junk food is gone now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> christophe is sturggling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i'm late on the update (btw ive been meaning to update every friday if you haven't noticed.) it's been a busy week so this chapter is late and pretty short

Taking a deep breath, Christophe points dramatically at the just woken Katsuki Yuuri. “Katsuki Yuuri,” he intones, very obviously trying to fight off the jet lag, “I hereby challenge you,” he slurs eyes sliding shut, he slumps forward as a wave exhaustion hits Christophe like a bitch slap from a soccer mom. Tired and very thirsty for a glass of one hundred percent fresh water straight from his faucet, Yuuri clears his throat pointedly. Christophe straightens almost instantly, awake and prepared to battle to the death. “To a battle of Rock Paper Scissors!” He finally finishes, getting in his ready stance.

  
Frowning, Yuuri pauses, trying and failing to grasp the words that would correctly convey how much he really doesn't want to this. Humming absently as Christophe waits for an answer, Yuuri opens his mouth.

  
“No.”

  
“B-but you said you would text Viktor if I beat you in Rock Paper Scissors!”

  
Frown intensifying, Yuuri scoots past the blonde and reaches for a glass of water left from last night. Downing the last of it, Yuuri finally turns and faces Christophe with a tiredly resigned look. “Fine.” He sighs out, feeling kind of guilty for being the primary reason for Christophe's obvious exhaustion. “Only on the condition that you go to sleep, preferably on my bed considering the couch is about a thousand years old.”

  
Christophe’s demeanor visibly changes, his voice dropping a tad bit lower and his eyes becoming heavy with what Yuuri assumes is seduction. “Is that an invitation Katsuki?” He drawls out, stepping into Yuuri’s space and placing a calloused hand under the Japanese skater’s chin. Yuuri’s face colors a nice scarlet and he stutters out a small denial that involves many curses and death threats. Smirking, Christophe leans his head closer till their foreheads are nearly touching, opening his mouth, he hears Yuuri suck in a small breath as Christophe licks his lips. A panicked look crosses Yuuri’s face and the smaller man snaps his head forward knocking Christophe’s head back with a strong head butt that leaves Christophe on his ass.

  
“Rock.” Yuuri states with a smirk, leering over the man with a smug, sly grin. There’s a squeal from the living room and a small sound of a muffled voice repeating “Rock.” emitting from Phichit’s phone. Cradling his definitely broken in _fucking half_ skull, Christophe winces at the loud screeching and commotion coming from the living room where Phichit and Yuuri are wrestling on the floor. There’s a triumphant yell from Phichit and a groan from Yuuri as he rolls on the floor moaning about his failure to keep Phichit from posting the video of the heavy tension between the two skaters.

  
Clearing his throat, Christophe speaks over the two friends, “Can I get some ice for this?” At his words Phichit apologizes sheepishly and makes a mad dash past the downed man on the floor towards the refrigerator. He rummages through it, making an “Aha!” noise when he finds the ice pack shoved in the back behind a massive jar of what appears to be mayonnaise.

“Why do you own massive jar of mayonnaise? It’s the same size as my head." Handing him the ice pack, Phichit grabs the mayonnaise and lowers it down to Christophe’s (who, for some reason, is still on the floor) head, comparing the two.

“Actually, it’s bigger than your head.” The Thai skater corrects amusedly. “Yuuri’s sister Mari gave it to Yuuri as a gag gift for his birthday. She mailed it to him from Japan. The best part is that Yuuri absolutely despises mayonnaise in every way shape and form.” Phichit explains while placing the mayonnaise back into the fridge. “I keep it around because I like to put it on my sandwiches…” He pauses, checking around the area to see if Yuuri is still around. “Also every time Yuuri opens the fridge he makes the most beautiful disgusted face. I have so many pictures.” Whipping out his phone, he opens the album titled “Yuuri Blackmail ;)” and swipes through a few pictures showing him the various measures of disgust present on Yuuri’s face. “Beautiful isn’t it?” He winks and shoves his phone back into his sweat pants pocket.

  
Standing up and giving Phichit an awed gaze he whispers reverently, “Teach me everything.”

* * *

  
“Yuuri!” At the sound of his name, Yuuri turns to see Christophe waving at him from his apartment’s balcony. “We still have yet to actually play Rock Paper Scissors!” Rolling his eyes, Yuuri waves a hand absently and pretends he doesn’t hear the screaming Swiss skater. He also pretends not to hear Celestino why the man questions him about why he’s late.

* * *

  
Practice today was especially taxing on Yuuri. He’s tired and hungry. All he’s had to eat and drink since this morning is a glass of old water and a singular baby carrot. Wasn’t even the size of his pinky. When he gets home, Christophe is thankfully not there (probably out getting some food since all they had in their fridge at the moment is a collection of ice packs and one massive jar of mayonnaise) and Yuuri immediately collapses into his bed.

  
All of this is, for the record, done against Christophe’s will. Christophe had all but jumped in front of Yuuri in order to make sure the skater would not fall into the bed and pass out. Christophe who had  _attempted_  to use Yuuri’s exhaustion against him so he could win this battle, go home, and finally have Viktor stop complaining to him. His plan was completely solid except for the fact that Christophe physically could not deny Yuuri the sleep. The man already had one foot in the grave, add in his taxing skating routine in and you had a dead man walking. Thus, he really couldn't find it within himself to deny him the need for sleep.

Which is why when Yuuri wakes up, all he will see is Christophe’s face. Meaning, they were going to sleep together. Nothing all that grand for Christophe but definitely going to be a hell of a shock for the no-doubt virgin that is Katsuki Yuuri. After all, no one wants to bang a guy who spits out memes at every moment of the day.

 (Well, with the exception of Viktor. The freak.)

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where all the russian skaters ARE DEAD.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're not actually dead i promise. i also took the liberty to not update for like, two weeks. whoops? it's here now tho :). i promise to tell y'all next time if i decide to just, not update. (finals are coming up so ;-;)

The sun streams directly through the cracks of his curtain and right into Yuuri’s fucking eyes. Cursing softly, Yuuri peels his eyes open and attempts to rub the sleep out of them. Turning on his side and blinking rapidly, Yuuri comes face to face with what appears to be Christophe. Yuuri pokes him in the forehead.

He does not wake up.

Yuuri really doesn't want to get out of bed and Christophe is really warm and hey- _what if they just snuggled a bit._ Scooting closer to the man Yuuri just stuffs his face into the Swiss man’s chest and blocks out all of the sunlight.

This is a very good decision, Yuuri’s sleep addled mind decided rather decisively.

* * *

  
Christophe was not okay with this. He had meant for Yuuri to freak out as a form of revenge. Not just move his adorable little face right into his chest.

His _body_.

Christophe screams.

Yuuri wakes up again and snuggles more into Christophe’s chest, grumbling a small “Shut the fuck up Christophe.”

Christophe _nopes_ the fuck out. Packing up his bags and booking the next flight back home, Christophe blasts the fuck out. Yuuri is too cute, too just the best ever, and if Christophe falls for Yuuri all hell will break loose and _nobody_ is prepared for that.

* * *

  
“Christophe left.”

“I know.”

“Yuuri, tHIS WAS YOUR PLAN ALL ALONG WASN’T IT?”

“Ummm, no.” Yuuri glances away from the enraged Phichit and crosses his fingers discreetly behind his back.

“I SEE THOSE FINGERS.”

“NO.”

“YES.”

“NO.”

* * *

 

Yuuri still does not text Viktor. He should. It would be polite since Christophe came all the way out here to make Yuuri text Viktor. But, then again, there was no Rock Paper Scissors battle so there technically is no need for Yuuri to respond to Viktor. And yet… Yuuri still wants to.

Maybe it's because he feels bad or maybe it's because he's bored, the urge to text the Russian skater is growing each minute Yuuri glances at his dry phone. Well it at least seems dry when it's nighttime in Russia. Lord knows as soon as it’s waking hour in Russia his phone will blow the fuck up and once again, all hell will break loose. With a heavy heart and an anxious as all shit mind, Yuuri slides into Viktor's DMs. He sends a Shrek meme. Maybe it's a little out of fashion by now but Yuuri is playing it safe. Shrek memes are just now breaking the surface of acceptable in modern society.

The question now is, what will Yuuri say when Viktor asks him why the fuck Yuuri’s been ignoring him. Of course, the answer will be absolute bullshit, because never in Yuuri’s entire life has he told someone he just met anything about himself. When sober that is.

(Except for that one time. That one time when it seemed like the entire world was crashing down- and. Well it wasn't a good time.)

He’s stuck between two different excuses. Option one: “I was turned into a llama by an evil witch woman who wants me dead to reign over my kingdom”, which he totally stole from The Emperor’s New Groove. Cons of this consist of the fact that Yuuri does not in fact own a kingdom, never mind the fact that Yuuri does not know any old witch women. However, this doesn't cross out the fact that an old witch woman might be out to kill him. He doesn't have to know people for them to want to kill him. (Yuuri adds this to the list of _Things to Consider Carefully_.)

Definitely an amusing excuse but totally unbelievable and Yuuri’s going for somewhat believable (never mind the fact that Viktor may have at one point seen this beauty of a movie). Or maybe giving a total bullshit sounding answer will make him sound mysterious and alluring?

Yuuri adds this to _Things to Consider Carefully_.

Shoving his sandals on and grabbing his skating bag, Yuuri trudges out into the cold Detroit weather. The rink is across the street so Yuuri blasts the fuck over there, trying not to turn into an actual popsicle on the way there. Finally shoving his way into the slightly warmer ice rink, Yuuri contemplates option number two: “I was giving birth in a subway.” Even less plausible, considering Yuuri is not of the female sex, nor gender. However, the use of this excuse would cause feelings of sympathy and the urge to support the fatherless baby, tying him to Viktor even more, which Yuuri isn't sure if he even wants that to happen. Option one is seemingly the winner so far.

He sets down his bag and pulls out his skates and just spaces for a bit. He's been doing the spacey thing a lot. Maybe it's the thought that someone might actually _like-like_ him. As in Katsuki Yuuri. As in him. Then again, Viktor hasn't even met him. They’ve never talked before. Statistics show that after actually speaking to Yuuri, people’s interest plummet to nothing. Actually nothing. This is proven science. So what is it that Viktor finds interesting? Who knows. Yuuri has never even tried to pretend that he knows what’s going through the other man’s head.

It’s scary how out of depth Yuuri feels. It shakes him to the core and leaves him breathless as he does his warm ups. He waits for his phone to ding.

It never does.

In hindsight, it's probably Yuuri’s own fault for being so insecure and pretty much being the biggest douche on the planet to his childhood idol. Karma and shit. But it still hurts. It hurts like a motherfucker. Like he just got stabbed in the eye with a burning olive branch. Except it's his heart.

So not really like that at all to be honest.

But, wait, there's more. Viktor has completely stopped all social media. The usually completely obsessed twenty-something lonely skater man is no longer taking dumb selfies or doing anything on Instagram. There's many theories on the internet as to why, yet none of them have yet to be confirmed by anyone. Not only Viktor, but the Tiny One as well.

All Russians seem to have been completely cut off from the internet. Or, well, all Russian skaters. All Russian skaters under Yakov. There’s probably some sort of correlation here that Yuuri just isn't getting.

They’re probably all dead or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was very tempting to write Christophe Yuuri here. very very tempting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back y'all!! for good for now!! i took a bit of a break to sort everything out and stuff, this fic isn't more coherent or anything but i think i've got where i want to be by the end of the story. it's all about the journey amirite?

Even in Yuuri's own room he cannot escape the questions. Every single comment on his admittedly small amount of Instagram photos is some variation of “Yuuuuuuuri. What happened to all the Russians?? :(((“. Honestly these bitches must be tripping if they think that Yuuri knows where all their Russian boy toys went. Like hell Yuuri knows anything about it. He doesn’t even regularly converse with them. Unless you count ignoring their messages. 

Yuuri hadn't even noticed they went MIA.

(This is complete and utter horseshit).

Yuuri doesn't even miss the annoying assholes. 

(Also horseshit).

Heck, Yuuri doesn't even know their names for all intents and purposes.

(This… is somewhat true. Yuuri doesn't know all the Russian skaters names, and if the police ask, he doesn’t know anyone’s name. Not even his own).

Paranoia is a bitch. In any case, Yuuri just sincerely hopes the Russian crew aren’t as dead as they seem. Is he a little salty that someone took away his admirers? Yes. Quite a bit actually. Of course, if not for the fact that Phichit is an annoying shit that never lets a single despondent sigh pass him by, Yuuri would not be acknowledging this at all. (In other words, Phichit forced Yuuri to acknowledge his reluctant attachment to a man he’s never personally spoken to).

If Yuuri had to guess, they’re all probably taking a break from social media to practice, or they all just collectively got cancer. Or where murdered all in the same day and night. It is somewhat unlikely that they would just quit social-media-ing without any type of warning. Usually when people take breaks they tell people in order for the people to not ask if they’re dead or some shit. The only way for this problem to be solved is to fly to St. Petersburg and see if Viktor and his companions are as dead as they appear. Which, without a body at hand and lack of mobile Russian police to the general area of the skating rink, the likelihood of them even being dead is very slim. Yuuri has no doubt that they are all somewhat alive, if not dead only on the inside. On the other hand it could also be that the government has actually killed the skaters for some absurd reason.

Shit happens. Yuuri would know.

The more Yuuri thinks about the chances of them being alive or not, the more anxious he gets. So he does the only logical thing. Ignore everything and distract himself with practice and the usual antics him and Phichit usually get up to.

So many antics and he’s all up in those. Balls deep in all the antics. And despite the amount of antics and practice that Yuuri has violently thrown himself into, he can’t help but worry. Anxiously, Yuuri chews on his lip, deciding now would be the best time to try for contact with Viktor or not specifically Viktor. Just anyone. He’s not just worried about Viktor. He glances up at the concentrated Phichit from where he’s supporting the other skater’s perch and mutters quietly, “Hey, Pichit, don’t freak out, but I’m letting go.”

The unstable rolly chair wobbles ominously on top of the couch.

“Yuuri, you son of a bitch, if you don’t get back here now I swear to Jesus, no court on this Earth will protect you from me!” Phichit shrieks, carefully balancing on top of the unstable surface, “Yuuri? Yuuri-” The rolly chair wobbles and slips out from under the skater. With a terrified shriek, Phichit falls to the floor, knocking over a couch chair and a coffee mug.

Worrying his lip, Yuuri pokes his head out of his room to check out the mess on the floor next to the coffee table. He realizes belatedly that letting go of the rolly chair stacked on top of the couch while Phichit was on it was probably not the smartest idea. Then again Yuuri’s never been really known for bright ideas. Granted, he doesn’t think he’s come up with an idea this bad while sober before.

All they were trying to do was to get the pancake Phichit threw on the ceiling on a bet that wouldn’t stick. Phichit lost that bet and they lived a couple of days with a pancake stuck on the ceiling.

“Uh, Phichit, you can clean this up right?”

He gets a graceful middle finger in reply.

Yuuri did this to himself.

With a sigh Yuuri yanks his phone off the charger and paces around the room nervously once again. This feels like deja vu. Quickly before his brain takes hold of his body, Yuuri types out a quick “you dead bro?” and sends it to the other, less important Yuuri (or well, Yuri). At least this one is slightly safer. Well, in terms of chances of courtship.

_yuri-plisetsky: ARE YOU AN IDIOT????_

_yuri-plisetsky: NO IM NOT DEAD YOU FOOL, NEITHER IS VIKTOR WHICH IS WHAT YOU REALLY WANTED TO KNOW RIGHT?_  

_yuri-plisetsky: IM NOT AN IDIOT YOU KNOW_

_yuri-plisetsky: YOU TWO HAVE BEEN PLAYING CAT AND MOUSE FOR THE PAST MONTH_

_yuri-plisetsky: EXCEPT, PLOT TWIST, THE CAT AND MOUSE WANT TO FUCK._

Yuuri blushes heavily and quickly types out a reply.

_sk8erboi: jesus what have you been smoking and where can i get it_

_sk8erboi: the only one who wants to fuck is viktor_  

_sk8erboi: i’m not exactly *adverse* to the idea but i dont really get it????_

_yuri-plisetsky: WHY THE FUCK ARE ASKING ME._

_yuri-plisetsky: I DONT KNOW WHAT THE FUCK GOES ON IN THAT BRAIN OF HIS_

_yuri-plisetsky: ASK HIM_

_yuri-plisetsky: UNLESS YOURE TOO CHICKEN_

Yuuri thinks that’s exactly what he will do. Suck it, other Yuri.

_sk8erboi: eyyyy you wanna tell me why you keep trying to talk to me?_

He sits send and immediately _regrets._ This was a dumbass, spite fueled idea. _Congratulations, you fucking played yourself._ God, what he would give for a redo button right about now. _If there is a god up there,_ he thinks desperately, _just strike me dead please._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tfw you have to italicize already italicized text.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phichit takes a dump and finals are coming up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am fucking exhausted. i have done nothing but decompose in my own filth and yet i am still tired. what the ever loving fuck.

_ sk8erboi: okay so i think that maybe i phrased that weirdly? _

_ ska8erboi: i just think that its kinda weird that you text me everyday?  _

_ sk8erboi: mostly because most people would have given up by now. _

_ sk8erboi: i guess you’re just persistent? which is nice in it’s own way i think _

_ sk8erboi: nothing wrong with a little perseverance amirite?   _

_ sk8erboi: anyway i guess what i’m trying to say here is that i don’t mind you texting me everyday even if i’m a little confused and weirded out _

_ sk8erboi: if you could get back to me soon that would be great _

_ sk8erboi: or you could not and we could both pretend this encounter never happened i’m cool with that too  _

_ sk8erboi: i’m all in now. are you scared of the budding relationship flowers? _

_ sk8erboi: flowers of pure goodness and bromance _

_ sk8erboi: i’m ready _

* * *

 

A week goes by.

Then a competition.

Then another week.

Yuuri is blazing his way to the Finals once more. Except this time he’s gradually growing more and more depressed because Viktor  _ still  _ isn’t answering his messages. Yuuri hadn’t sent anymore since that day because he naively thought Viktor would be happy that Yuuri finally decided to text him back. Of course, as per usual of Yuuri, it was kind of insensitive. 

Ignore a guy for weeks on end and then expect him to text back immediately.  Way to go Yuuri, drive off the only hot and rich guy willing to put up with you. Yes, Yuuri’s inner voice is the same voice as Terry Crews. No, you may not steal him to motivate yourself.

Terry Crews is  _ his.  _

Or maybe it was all a cruel prank leading up to this very moment. This moment when he would finally get hooked on the attention only for Viktor leave him high and dry in the dirt. What a masterful plan. Fucking bastard. This wouldn’t be the first time Yuuri has worn his heart on his fucking sleeve and bit in the ass for it. His plush rump is hurting dearly for it.

His phone dings. Yuuri pointedly ignores it.

It dings again. Yuuri picks it up and nearly shrieks. Of course, now is the time that Viktor decides to message him back. Right when he’s about flip right off the handle into a spiral of self-loathing and hatred for all of humankind. Of course. “My prince charming,” Yuuri mutters sarcastically, “ _ swoon _ .”

_ v_nikiforov: yes!! I’m ready for our friendship blossoms as well! _

_ v_nikiforov: as for why i keep contacting you, it’s because i sincerly look up to you and i want to be friends. _

_ sk8erboi: sincerely* _

_ v_nikiforov: whoops! I make lots of typos when i get excited. _

_ sk8erboi: okay buddy chum pal _

_ sk8erboi: let’s get this friendship thing goin. we’re makin it happen. _

_ v_nikiforov: wow! I can’t wait! _

By the end of the conversation Yuuri is actually swooning. No one should be allowed to be that perfect and that beautiful and that is a truth Yuuri knows like he knows the sky is blue and the grass is green. Frankly, it’s ridiculous. Yuuri had thought that he got rid of that crush years ago, back when he was young and naive but then woke up to a harsh reality where things don’t always go the way you want them to no matter how much you work for them. It only worked out in his favor once, but that was through sheer luck and an endless amount of hard work. So yes, perseverance is good and shit, but it doesn’t  _ always  _ work out for you.

Unfortunately, no matter how many times they talk and no matter how many times they profess their broman-ship, Yuuri still goes back to the first few texts. Was he trying to confess then? Maybe it wasn’t a prank? His mind works circles around him and all he ends up doing is shoving it to the back of his brain where he doesn’t have to deal with it. Just far back enough he can effectively ignore it during practice and competitions.

This is why it’s bad to acknowledge your emotions.

And maybe  _ this  _ is why Yuuri is fucked up.

Turns out, the reason all the Russian’s just mysteriously stopped all social media actions was because Yakov confiscated all social media as sort of a punishment for getting drunk and coming to practice the next day hung over. Anti-climatic but no less tragic. Being dead or all part of the Russian mafia would have been much cooler, in a sort of morbid action movie way. It is nice they aren’t dead though. Frankly, if they were dead it would cut down the competition a lot.

Yeah no. Let’s not go down that route, this is the beginnings of serial killers. Yuuri is not a serial killer, at least he doesn’t think he is.

_ v_nikiforov: can’t wait to see you at finals! _

And oh yeah, that’s happening too. It’s not the first time Yuuri’s been to finals but every time his stomach does the macarena and his heart runs a marathon before he’s ever stepped foot on the ice. Luckily, if he just chokes his emotions and shoves them in a corner, they go away eventually. 

_ sk8erboi: ya same buddy _

And with hesitation he books his flight to wherever the fuck the finals are. Yuuri’s not very good at this. This is what Celestino is for. He closes the window and calls Celestino. 

“Did you already book plane tickets?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“You just tried to buy plane tickets didn’t you?” 

“No. Shut up.”

He hangs up. 

His phone starts ringing again. “Phichit?” He asks incredulously, “You’re literally in the room across from me. You could have just shouted.”

“Yuuri please bring me some toilet paper. This is urgent I swear to God this is the biggest shit I have ever even-”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming stop describing your shit.”

He grabs extra toilet paper from the linen closet, and treks his way to their shared bathroom. As soon as he opens the door he is assaulted with the smell of a thousand dying animals and the suffering of millions of small children. “Jesus fucking-” Yuuri coughs and throws the toilet paper inside the room quickly. “Turn on the vent and get some Febreeze. This is ungodly Phichit." 

“I know.” He hears snickering from behind the door. “You’re lucky I caught that toilet paper, otherwise you’d’ve had to actually come in here and hand it to me.”

“God forbid that happen to any poor soul.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> traveling is "fun"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote all of this today because of reasons. also sorry for the cliff-hanger.

Traveling is easier said than done. Yuuri loves getting out of Detroit but a lot of times it’s a complete pain in the ass. Especially having to haul all his equipment to some city in Europe. “Ciao Ciao,” Yuuri says seriously as he waits in line for what seems like an eternity, “I’m quitting skating for good. Take me out of the finals. I’m leaving.

Celestino sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “You say that every time Yuuri and yet you’re still here. You can understand why I don’t believe you, right?”

“I’m serious this time Ciao Ciao.”

“No Yuuri, you really aren’t.”

“How do you know? You don’t know my life.”

“Yuuri, I plan your every waking hour. Don’t tell me I don’t know your life.”

“Shut up Celestino.”

“No.”

* * *

 

The plane ride is uneventful and the food is decent, or Yuuri seems to think so. Celeistino  _ hates  _ plane food (Yuuri secretly thinks Ciao Ciao is just used to the finer things in life and he tells him this often. Celestino just tells him that since Yuuri thinks Doritos are a food group he doesn’t get an opinion on how good the food is). But really, you can’t go wrong with bread that isn’t moldy and some butter in a small package. Plus, they have salads in a small little container. It’s like getting fancy meal packages from the supermarket. Takes him back to the days when he wasn’t living with Phichit and therefore didn’t feel the need to cook healthy meals that would actually give him healthy forms of nutrition. He just had a multitude of frozen corn dogs that he would heat up every now and then.

(He still doesn’t eat much, but now he has a needy roommate who he doesn’t mind taking care of, and taking care of people includes cooking or a method of gaining food sources.)

In the hotel they get to, they don’t do much other than sleep. There really isn’t anything else they can do. Other than sight-seeing of course but Yuuri only has a limited amount of energy and it’s not about to be wasted on seeing buildings when he could be looking at recycled memes and surfing through his secret tumblr no man should ever come across. As he comes across another post about Viktor and how much OP wants to bone him, Yuuri realizes that he’s  _ really fucking hungry. _

Sighing, he tugs on his shoes and googles nearby cafes where he can get a goddamn bite to eat. He sifts through the list of cafes as he walks to the elevator and jams the button a few times. The elevator dings and in his quest to find something edible, Yuuri doesn’t even notice as the man coming out of the elevator. It’s jarring when he bumps into a solid chest and drops his phone on the floor of the elevator. “Ah, whoops, sorry-” Yuuri says as he bends down to pick his phone back up. He’s cut off by a short shriek from the other man. 

“Yuuri?!” The man grabs his shoulders and Yuuri’s forced to look up at his face. 

It’s motherfucking  _ Viktor Nikiforov. _

The skater seems to be just as shocked to see him, but a lot less panicked than Yuuri is on the inside. Yuuri is barely even in acceptable human clothes, not to mention he can’t even remember the last time he brushed his teeth. He is not in the condition to meet his childhood idol right now. With a small noise, Yuuri glances back quickly, only to see that the elevator doors had already closed, effectively trapping him with a man he avoided for  _ weeks.  _

_ This is it,  _ Yuuri thinks despairingly,  _ this is the end.  _

The end of what, Yuuri doesn’t know. It’s probably the end of their tentative bromanship though because they had never even talked in real life. His current dress state was a stage of ultimate bromanship, a condition only seen by Phichit and occasionally strangers when he was too tired to do anything more than pop by the gas station and grab a bag of chips. The point is, Viktor was  _ not  _ supposed to see him like this.

The planned meeting in his head did not go anything like this. They were supposed to finally talk after Yuuri beats him  _ again  _ in the finals (Yuuri didn’t talk to him last time because right after he was called and told his dog died). When Yuuri was high off of victory and not over thinking anything. This is Murphy’s Law in action.

Decided, he lies to Viktor’s face. “Who?” He asks, head cocked in what hopefully would seem like a confused manner. Viktor’s face goes stoney for a second and his voice deepens significantly. 

“I know you’re lying Yuuri.” Viktor says and the man’s grip on his shoulders tightens.

“Ahahahaha.” Yuuri laughs nervously and shoots Viktor a twin pair of finger guns, “Gotcha good didn’t I?”

_ Nice save, Yuuri. _

Viktor’s face brightens and the man pats his shoulders twice as he laughs, “Good,” he says, and smiles, “I was really hurt there for a minute, I thought you were going to go back to ignoring me.” 

_ Oh my God. He’s trying to guilt trip me into being friends with him,  _ Yuuri thinks and sweats a little,  _ it’s actually working. _

“Ahaha,” Yuuri releases another nervous laugh and slides to the other of the elevator. “Could you, uh, hit the first floor button?” He asks and pulls out his phone again, quickly he sends a message to Phichit as Viktor presses the number one sign.

_ sk8erboi: SOS _

_ sk8erboi: help immmm dyiiinnngg _

_ sk8erboi: look what you’ve done. you didn’t reply fast enough and now i’m dead. _

_ sk8erboi: are you happy now????? _

Knowing Phichit though, he’s probably watching a new episode of  _ The Bachelor  _ and is probably very pointedly not responding.  _ The Bachelor _ time is holy time. Not to be interrupted by any man or woman.

“So,” he turns to look at Viktor who’s smiling happily while he speaks, “want to grab a bite to eat?"

The words ring out like a death sentence and Yuuri can feel anxiety creep into his head like some kinda shady motherfucker. “Uh,” Yuuri swallows, he really can’t say no to this, “sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr? i'm desperate for followers that aren't porn blogs. i'm cancerous-cactus


End file.
